


A Matter of Hearts

by queenbaskerville



Series: Breaking the Cycle [1]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 05:14:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3196670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenbaskerville/pseuds/queenbaskerville
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>2x05. AU scenes and missing thoughts for canon ones. Thomas-centric.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Matter of Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> I should be working on anything but Thomas Barrow, really, but oh well.
> 
> I've been rewatching so much of Downton lately.

Thomas sat across from O'Brien, failing to enjoy a smoke. She'd just told him of Captain Crawley's injury, and footman William's. He didn't get any pleasure from knowing it.

"I'm sorry for him," he said. "I am. I don't mind Captain Crawley, he's a better man than most of them."

"And William, too." O'Brien added. "He's not a bad lad, whatever you say."

Thomas supposed she was right. He wondered how bad they had it. Hopefully- and he never thought he'd think this about either of them, but times really had changed- they didn't have it much worse than him. But they probably did. They got their wounds on accident, and his had been intentional. He knew exactly where he'd wanted the bullet. They had the luck of the draw with the bombing and the shooting and the gas. He stared at the table, trying to fight the shellshock that lingered. Sometimes he hated it here, with all the reminders of France.

"I shouldn't have written that letter to Bates's wife, letting her know he's back here," O'Brien murmured suddenly, and it was the distraction he needed. He looked up at her.

"What's that got to do with it?"

"Well, with everything else going on, I know she'll come up here and make trouble." Her words grew even quieter towards the end but she only looked more urgent.

It suited the situation because she spoke the truth. Mrs. Bates would be up real soon, no doubt about it, and Thomas wasn't looking forward to what she'd do when she got here. "Don't blame me, it wasn't my idea."

Daisy entered with a tray of biscuits, cutting off the conversation. Both of them turned their eyes to her, though for Thomas it was only briefly. He knew about their engagement, William and Daisy's. He would've envied them if not for what William was going through now. He pitied Daisy a little, engaged only to lose her fiancé so quickly. They hadn't even had time to marry. At least then if he died she'd get the pension.

Maybe he wouldn't die, though. Things weren't so grim as that just yet. No need to get down in the dumps. And about Daisy and William, of all people. O'Brien might've been right. Maybe he was getting soft.

O'Brien was saying something. He tuned back in to the conversation.

"Any news?"

Daisy sounded angry when she replied, which was almost startling. "Only that the doctor won't let William come to the village."

O'Brien's eyes flicked to Thomas with shock and then back to Daisy again. "He never."

"'It's for officers only,' he says."

Ms. Patmore walked in. "And his poor father's there with him, spending money he's not gotten, traveling miles to do it!"

Thomas inhaled quietly, getting more irritated by the second.

"It's not right!" Daisy exclaimed, and he was glad she'd done it instead of him, because he might've been louder about it.

He kept his tone as even as he could as he muttered, "No, it bloody well isn't."

O'Brien and Ms. Patmore sat up in their chairs slightly. Daisy stared at him in surprise. He could've sworn he heard somebody drop their bloody silverware.

He looked at the three of them one at a time. Jeezus, did he really come off as such a heartless bastard that they were shocked he gave a damn?

He took a split second to think and decided he didn't want that answered

Thomas felt he had to explain himself. "Well, I'm a working class lad and so is 'e. And I get fed up seeing our lot always get shafted."

O'Brien said nothing.

"I'd ask the doctor myself to get William a bed here," he continued, letting his anger get the best of his brain-to-mouth filters, "but seeing as that didn't go so well last time, I doubt it would do anything anyway." He shoved back, intending to head to the back before Edward Courtenay got in his head enough to cause more of a scene in front of everybody.

"Last time? What 'appened last time?" Daisy asked curiously, but by then Thomas was facing the way out. He didn't intend to answer. He didn't trust his own voice.

He made it out in the courtyard without incident. He inhaled shakily, thankful for that, at least. He discarded his cigarette, not bothering to stamp it out as he lit a fresh one. After a few moments he heard the door open behind him, footsteps on the stairs. Thomas inhaled again, just as shaky as the last big breath, and turned, ready to rant to O'Brien.

But it wasn't O'Brien. It was Daisy-bloody-Robinson, standing there with her hands clasped in front of the white waistline of her pink striped dress, eyes wide as dinner plates.

"What happened last time?" she asked him, voice softer then before.

He wondered if his eyes were red and wet and hated her all of a sudden for finding him like this.

"What's it to you?" he asked, putting on a tight-lipped smile and making his voice as nasty as he could. "Worried about your fiancé?"

"I weren't worried for him, not in that way," she said quickly, before looking frightened. That got him interested. Obviously she'd meant to say something else. She continued, "Only, I feel sorry for him, and I was wondering if it wouldn't be much trouble to ask Dr. Clarkson to let him stay, even if last time didn't go so well. But I wanted to know exactly how 'not well' last time was first." Daisy seemed hesitant. "Are you alright, Thomas?"

"That's Sergeant Barrow to you," he muttered, but it was only half-heartedly. "It wouldn't do any good for me to ask. Dr. Clarkson is quite stubborn."

Daisy fidgeted. "What happened?"

He let himself try to enjoy his cigarette a bit more before saying, "Tell you what. You tell me what exactly is going on with your shoddy little engagement and I'll tell you what you want to know."

"What do you mean, 'shoddy'?" Daisy sounded offended.

"'Not in that way,' you said. Maybe you didn't say it intentionally. You keep acting funny whenever somebody brings him up. What's going on? All's not well in paradise?" He smiled again, though it still wasn't quite genuine.

"All's  _fine_ , thank you very much. Even if it wasn't- You think I'd tell you, and have you tell Ms. O'Brien and make it the whole house's business? I don't think so," Daisy said, which was exactly what he was counting on. She'd never tell him because he was untrustworthy, so he wouldn't have to go very far in driving her off her inquiries about "last time".

"There you have it, then," he said, pleased. "No deal. Good luck, Daisy." He made to go up the steps and leave the courtyard, but she put out her arm, and he bumped against it.

What in God's name-?

Him being on a lower step, her arm hit his chest, and he looked up at her incredulously. The determined expression she'd suddenly donned wavered. 

"You've got to promise you'll keep it a secret," she said.

Now, this was unexpected.

Curiosity obviously had gotten the better of her, and it was starting to get the better of him. He didn't have to keep his promise, after all, but she had his attention. She wanted to know why he wouldn't ask Dr. Clarkson and he wanted to know why the truth about her engagement was odd enough to be made the "whole house's business" if he talked about it to anybody.

"Alright. I promise." He backed down the steps to stand on the cobblestones. She followed him.

"So, let's hear it," she said, and he paused.

"You go first."

"And have you not keep up your end of the bargain? I don't think so." She crossed her arms in front of her chest.

He couldn't believe this. What happened to the timid little kitchen maid he'd bossed around before? Here she was, trying to outwit him.

Fine. Thomas supposed she deserved a little something for being so courageous about it. And he really did want to know what was up with William and her, now.

"Only if  _you_  promise to keep it a secret," he said. "And I know full well you like to run off to Mr. Carson and Ms. Patmore and Ms Hughes and all them, so we'll have none of that."

"Alright," she said, looking confused but agreeable enough to the idea.

The idea which was bad, he knew. Definitely not his smartest.

But he was doing it anyway, God help him.

"I had a friend down at the hospital," he began after another inhale from his cigarette. He wasn't stupid enough to tell her he was half in love with Edward. He knew better than that. He wouldn't have lasted this long as a free man if he didn't.

"A  _friend_?"

He gave her a sideways look. "No need to act so surprised about it. The world isn't coming to an end just because I happen to have had a friend."

"Sorry," she muttered, looking sheepish.

"Yes, I bloody well had a friend. Nurse Crawley liked him well enough, too," he added, thinking that maybe she'd get the wrong impression about Edward and think he was some awful person. "We were helping him learn to walk around, since he'd been blinded from gas." Thomas kept his voice even. "Dr. Clarkson decided he'd recovered enough to leave the hospital. Go somewhere else."

After a pause, Daisy tentatively asked, "And then what?"

"Nurse Crawley tried to object, and so did I. It didn't do any good." He decided not to mention the scolding he and Nurse Crawley had gotten. No need to make himself look any worse. He made himself sound bleak, emotionless, so he wouldn't cry. "Edw- he wasn't ready. He couldn't bear to leave. So, he snuck a razor from shaving into his bed that night. Nurse Crawley found him in the morning."

"Found him... dead?"

"Of course he was bloody dead. Are you daft?" Thomas snapped.

Daisy jumped, but didn't say anything. Thomas almost regretted his tone. Almost. He changed the subject. "So. What's this about William now?"

She hesitated.

"A promise is a promise, Daisy," he reminded her, knowing it was the sort of morally good stuff that would bring her 'round.

"Oh, alright then." She took a deep breath as if to steady herself, and then spoke so quickly Thomas almost didn't catch it. "I only agreed to be William's girl because Ms. Patmore didn't want him to go off to battle with a broken heart."

Thomas wanted to laugh. He barely withheld it. So that's what it was. She hadn't been unfaithful, hadn't stolen any of his things, hadn't done anything nasty. It was nothing to get excited about, nothing to tell his secrets for. She'd just tried to be nice to her friend and ended up in over her head.

He wasn't sure what to say, settling on, "I expect you're glad now that you let him have his little daydream," and then dropping his cigarette and crushing it with his heel.

"I'm not glad," she said suddenly, and her upset tone caught him off guard. "I feel like I've led him up the garden path with all that nonsense. I'm ashamed." Tears gathered in her eyes. "I'm so ashamed."

Thomas felt very uncomfortable. Even if he felt sorry for Daisy, he didn't exactly like her either, and he wasn't sure what to do.

"Let's have none of that," he said awkwardly, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sure you've made him very happy. There's no need to get so upset about being nice to somebody."

"I don't feel very nice," she said between sobs. 

"It's not like you bloody stabbed him. Come on, enough of this nonsense, let's get you back to Ms. Patmore," and other people who can handle this, he thought, but didn't say anything else, just steered her back inside. 

O'Brien was still sitting at the table. She looked up with surprise when they walked in, Thomas looking uncomfortable and Daisy in tears. "Thomas, what have you done?" she demanded sharply.

"Believe it or not, it's not my fault this time," he muttered, following Daisy into the kitchen, only to halt when he found Ms. Patmore staring at Mrs. Vera Bates, who'd just walked in. 

"What're you doing here?" Ms. Patmore demanded of her before she noticed Daisy and Thomas.

Thomas knew exactly why she was here.

"Don't sound inhospitable when I've only known a welcome in this house," Mrs. Bates said, sounding like she was up to something. Which she was. 

"Well, you're not welcome anymore," said Thomas with as cruel a smile as he could muster. "I don't very much like that you're back again to cause trouble." Not now, anyway. If she could've just waited a month or two until everything had settled down a little, he'd have welcomed her with open arms and sent her right to bloody Bates.

"Is there a reason for me to cause trouble?" she raised an eyebrow.

He was saved from having to respond to this by Anna and Bates coming round the corner. He didn't know where they'd been and didn't care. It was out of his hands now, whether this was a good or bad thing.

"Mrs. Bates," Anna exclaimed, and Thomas heard the trepidation in her voice.

"Finally, two people who will give me the welcome I deserve, and maybe show me into Ms. Hughes's drawing room." She smiled at them. Thomas could grow to hate that smile if it was directed at him. He knew Bates hated it, and wished he could enjoy that more.

"Sergeant Barrow wasn't welcoming enough?" Bates asked her, raising an eyebrow, and he sounded surprised.

"No, I wasn't, and I can speak for myself, thank you very much." Thomas glared at the two of them, ignoring Anna entirely. "Now if you'll excuse me, there's work to be done." He pushed past the trio crowding the doorway. Time to find something useful to do.

* * *

Daisy caught him as he left lunch the next day, grabbing him by the arm. He jerked away from her. She didn't have any right to get all grabby. "What is it?" he asked, a bit unkindly.

"I was just thinking- maybe you could ask Lady Edith or the Dowager Countess to talk to Dr. Clarkson if they haven't already."

Thomas thought that was one of the stupidest things he'd ever heard. "And why would either of them care about William?"

"Lady Edith's the one who helped me find out they were missin' in the first place," Daisy told him. "And I saw her talking to the Countess this morning about telephoning some relatives on the medical council or somethin' like that. Maybe they're trying to help."

Thomas didn't like the sound of it. "If they're already trying to help then there's no point in me bothering them, now is there?"

"Please?" she said, not quite a beg but close enough. "I don't know if they'll want to hear from me again, but you're an official man now. Ms. Patmore says to just let the Countess go at it but I'm worried she'll forget."

"Oh, alright," he muttered, "but that's all I want to hear about it from now on. I'll ask, but no promises."

"Thank you!" Daisy grinned.

* * *

Thank goodness she hadn't got the Countess with her.

Thomas approached Lady Edith warily, regretting this already and he hadn't even asked yet.

"Lady Edith?" he called, getting her attention.

She looked up, taking a moment to recognize him. Of course. It's not like she'd memorized the face of every servant downstairs. That would be below her. "Thomas!" She actually smiled when she saw him. "Or- Sergeant Barrow. Is there something you need?"

"I'd like to ask a favor, milady." Politeness would boost his likeliness of success.

"Oh?"

Here it goes. "Our footman, William, is stuck far away and is struggling to recover. His father has to travel far to visit him. We were all wondering downstairs if you could convince Dr. Clarkson to allow William to be transferred here, to Downton."

"Oh, don't worry about that." Edith smiled. "The Dowager Countess already has it under control. William will be back here by the end of the week."

If Thomas was anyone else he would've sagged with relief that the lady didn't mind his asking and would've even granted the request. As it were, he allowed a smile. "Thank you very much, milady."

"You're quite welcome."

* * *

 "You should never have told her Bates was here."

Thomas stood with O'Brien by the servant's staircase, feeling dissatisfied. William and Captain Crawley were here, which was a relief for some reason, but he still felt irritated about Mrs. Bates. 

"Don't I know it. And she was even worse after she'd seen him than before, ranting on about a scandal that would bring the roof down on the house of Grantham."

"What scandal?" Thomas was almost concerned. He'd rather not see harm come to Captain Crawley or Nurse Crawley, he realized. Lord Matthew and Lady Sybil.

"I thought she'd just come up to take a bite out of Bates. That's what it sounded like."

That's what they'd both hoped it to be.

"Then you should've asked more questions. You know what they say, the devil is in the detail." He itched for a smoke.

O'Brien huffed angrily. "I'm not standing by while she brings misery and ruin on my lady."

Thomas wouldn't stand for Captain Crawley and Nurse Crawley's reputations, neither. "You started it."

O'Brien's anger turned towards him. She didn't want to hear this, not from Thomas. "Oh, yes, you're very important, are you? Very know-it-all with all of us at your beck and call."

He resisted a sigh. "I'm sorry if you're angry, but don't take it out on me. You did it."

* * *

 He found her crying in the back when he went out for a smoke. Daisy, that is. He paused.

What he ought to have said was, "Honestly, if I'd had known you'd be out here bothering me every time I try to enjoy a bloody cigarette I'd never have tried to help you with stupid William. You'd never followed me out here if I hadn't gotten carried away."

What he did say was, "What is it now?" in an only slightly unkind tone of voice.

She spun around. "Oh," was all she replied, looking a fright with the red around her eyes and tear tracks down her face.

Thomas raised both eyebrows in anticipation. "Well?" he asked. "I can't exactly send you back inside in your state. You'll upset your fiancé."

She started to cry harder.

"He's not dead, is he?" Thomas asked quickly, feeling like an arse all of a sudden.

Daisy didn't look him in the eyes. "No, he's not dead."

He wanted to say that that was good, but obviously it wasn't, if her continuous tears were any sign. "Well, what's the matter?"

"He's asked me to marry him," she choked out. 

"So," Thomas paused. "Congratulations aren't in order, then?"

"I feel so nasty," Daisy whispered. "Like I'm lying to him. He thinks I'm in love with him but I'm not and he wants me to have his pension when he's dead and Ms. Hughes and Ms. Patmore and Mr. Mason all expect me to marry him but it's all happened so quickly and I've led him-"

"Up the garden path, I remember what you said." Thomas huffed out a breath and put a hand on her shoulder. "Listen. I know you don't want to marry him."

"Oh, not you too!" Daisy started to pull away, expecting a "but marry him anyway" speech.

"So just don't marry him," he finished simply, and it shocked her into stillness, exactly as he'd intended it to.

"Just... don't marry him?" she repeated incredulously.

Thomas shrugged. "If it's really such a nasty thing, don't do it. Go to him and tell him you won't marry him because you don't love him, and then let him die with his father."

"But I couldn't do that!" she protested. "He'd be broken-hearted, then. He'd be so sad."

"I guess you'll just have to make the decision, then." Thomas held her gaze, trying to be intense enough that she wouldn't look away. "Which is worse, letting him die with a broken heart and a disappointed father, or letting him die with a false sense of love? You've got to know that you don't owe anybody anything, of course, before you make your decision. It isn't about owing him happiness. It's about what you're going to do."

She stared, unable to speak.

"Maybe it is wrong. Maybe it is false. So what? You're gonna make him happy so he can greet his maker with a smile, and you'll get a pension and a happy father-in-law out of it."

"I'm not in it for the money," Daisy said, protesting again.

"Of course you're not." Thomas regretted bring that up.

"And even if I am making him happy, it's not real. I'm lying to him. I can't bear to lie to him." She was on the verge of tears again. He hadn't noticed she'd stopped until she was about to start once more.

"So don't." Thomas shrugged again. "It's no matter to me, anyway. Do what you like."

"Of course it matters to you," Daisy said, and Thomas froze. "Otherwise you wouldn't have stood out here and tried to talk to me about it."

He didn't know what to say to that. This hadn't gone like he'd wanted it to. She wasn't any closer to being happier with herself and he felt more vulnerable than before.

"I might have a false, lying heart," she said, sounding like she hated herself more than ever for a moment before her voice got soft again, "but I can still see that you've got one."

And then she was gone.

"Of course I've bloody got one," he muttered to the empty air.

* * *

"She's not exactly the blooming bride," O'Brien murmured. They were both on the stairs of the servant's hall again, watching Daisy.

"I don't think it's the same when you're marrying a corpse," Thomas replied, voice hollow.

"Are you going?" O'Brien asked. She meant the wedding.

"Why not? I won't mind shaking William's hand before he goes." Maybe it could be an unspoken apology of sorts. 

They let Ms. Hughes walk down, quieting as she went between them.

"Is that sentiment or superstition in case he haunts you?" asked O'Brien, and he hadn't the heart to tell her it was a little bit of both.


End file.
